


The Empty Bed

by mukaw



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-23
Updated: 2012-01-23
Packaged: 2017-10-30 00:34:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/325831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mukaw/pseuds/mukaw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dizzy. Where am I?<br/>He ruffles his head and groans.<br/>It's a bed, just a bed. Who's bed?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Empty Bed

_Dizzy. Where am I?_

 _  
_

He ruffles his head and groans. 

 

 _It's a bed, just a bed. Who's bed?_

 _  
_

He rubs his face and tries to remember the night that followed. Nothing. There was nothing there. No flashes, no memories, nothing. 

 

He stood up and found his clothes on the floor.

 

 _Shivers._

 _  
_

The breeze was coming in through an open window and he couldn't help but feel favourably gratified. Last night didn't matter anymore. He smiled and opened his eyes. 

 

 _When did I close them?_

 _  
_

He sighed and decided that it didn’t matter. He went to the kitchen, made tea, waited for the water to boil, and realized that he was holding two cups.

 

 _Two cups? Why would I need two cups?_ He felt his hands tighten its grip on the handle.

 

He wasn’t running on memories and logic now. There is nothing there. But he felt like there was always something else out there, someone.

 _Who? It doesn’t matter._

 _  
_

“I just thought I’d check in on you.”

 

 _Who? Me? I’m fine. Wasn’t I making tea?_

 _  
_

He was lying at the couch now. How long have he been lying there, he wasn’t sure. But his back was sore from the odd position and the morning breeze had gone replaced by the odd stillness of the night.

 

“Your tea’s gone cold, dear.”

 

An answer didn’t come and the woman sighed.  He was sure he wanted to answer, wanted to let the woman know he’s fine but before he could even open his mouth the woman had left. Everything felt still yet everything seems to slip away from him. He had no train of thought, only lines, words lightly weaved together by a moment that never lasted. He was jumping in and out of consciousness. He was existing, just existing and he couldn’t help thinking why he was alone.

 

 _I’m waiting. Am I? Waiting for whom? I don’t know. How long have I been waiting? It doesn’t matter._

 _  
_

And now he’s back on the bed for what seemed like hours. He buried his face on the sheets and took a deep breath. It felt good and he smelt something familiar, something warm, something faint, something lost. 


End file.
